The First Knight
by bloomsburry
Summary: Prince Rhaegar marries for love. He marries Lyanna Stark, but in a fit of madness, King Aerys does something to spite his son. "You will not be bedding your beloved wife tonight, Rhaegar! You will not have the first night! Because I will order your friend, the Sword of the Morning, to take your wife's maidenhead instead!"
1. Prologue

King Aerys watched the festivities before him while he drank a goblet filled with arbor gold. His gaze regarded the many Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms who have come to witness the marriage between his son and the Stark girl; the woman whom the Prince had fallen madly in love with during the Tourney at Harrenhall.

Aery's eyes went to the girl in question. Lyanna Stark sat beside his son on the high table, looking quite lovely in her wedding clothes. He observed as Rhaegar murmured something to his new bride. The Prince's eyes clearly expressed his love for his wife, whilst the girl seemed to be warming up to her husband.

He knew nothing much about the girl, apart from the fact that she was said to be a willful thing, and as Varys had informed him before, the Stark girl had been formerly betrothed to Robert Baratheon until Aerys had ordered the betrothal to be set aside in favor of allowing his son to marry the girl.

Lifting his goblet of wine towards his mouth, Aerys hid a sinister smile as he contemplated about the things he was about to do tonight.

He hadn't forgotten about what might have occurred at the Tourney at Harrenhall. The Tourney which was held as a pretext to gather the Lords of the realm for an informal Great Council to have him remove from the Iron Throne, the eunuch had told him. Aerys knew that his son and the Prince's most loyal friend, the Sword of the Morning, had plotted it many moons ago, and Aerys would never forget their slight.

He may have consented for Prince Rhaegar to marry the woman he loved, but Aerys wasn't going to let the Prince enjoy his taste of happiness. No. He would watch that happiness turned to ash in his son's tongue the moment he would give the order to the famed knight, the Sword of the Morning, to have the First Night.

Aery's knew Ser Arthur Dayne was almost like a brother to the Prince, and he would gleefully watch as that close friendship soured the instant the Sword of the Morning bedded Rhaegar's lovely wife.

.

Everything was going well for Lyanna. She liked the Prince, though she didn't know him well enough, but she knew that the Prince was a better match to her than Robert Baratheon.

Lyanna had to admit that she had only felt relieved when her Lord father had accepted the Prince's proposal. She heard many things about the Prince, and most of them good. There was nary a whisper of him siring a bastard despite the fact that he had remained unmarried for so long, in comparison to her former betrothed, Robert Baratheon, who had sired three bastard children already.

As to the reason the Prince had chosen her out of all the women in the Seven Kingdoms, Lyanna knew it must because of what had occurred at the Tourney at Harrenhall. It was the Sword of the Morning who had discovered her identity as the Knight of the Laughing Tree. However, instead of taking her to the Mad King, Ser Arthur Dayne had taken her to Prince Rhaegar.

It must be what Lyanna had done to those squires that had so intrigued and attracted the Prince to her, albeit Lyanna had yet to reciprocate his feelings.

The Prince was beautiful, there was no denying that, but she did not know him well enough to feel more than a fleeting impression towards him. She had spoken to him only thrice since she had arrived at King's Landing, and with the King's order for the wedding to occur at once, Lyanna had no time to get to know her future husband before the day of the wedding had arrived.

King Aerys had appeared to have been more excited about the wedding than either Lyanna, or even Prince Rhaegar, which was strange in itself, considering that the King was said to be acting more hostile towards his son. The Mad King's excitement for the wedding didn't bode well with Lyanna. She knew the King must be plotting something diabolical for her and the Prince, as to what it was, she could not fathom yet.

"TIME FOR THE BEDDING!"

Lyanna nearly jumped from her seat as someone shouted.

"THE BEDDING!" some of the men called out, which was echoed by the other guests, until the great hall was filled with the sounds of boisterous shouts, wolf whistles, raucous laughter, and palpable excitement.

A blush suffused Lyanna's face as she realized what they meant. She was suddenly nervous. Beneath her lashes, she glanced at her husband, and saw Prince Rhaegar looking at the people with an amused smile on his lips.

"Yes, yes, time for the bedding!" the King agreed loudly, standing up from his seat and clapping his hands, albeit with considerable difficulty given the state of his long, yellow fingernails. "Time for the bride to be properly bedded!"

Most of the guests were already on their feet and was ready to start the procession towards the royal bed chambers, when the Mad King let out a gleeful cackle and called out, "Ser Arthur Dayne, come forward and do the honor of divesting the bride's clothes and escort her to the bed chamber!"

A sudden feeling of dread rose inside Lyanna after hearing the King's orders. Beside her, she could sense Prince Rhaegar stiffening in his seat.

The noise in the Great Hall gradually dwindled. All eyes were on the Mad King who had burst into tiny, ecstatic giggles.

"Your grace?" a cautious voice asked from behind them, and Lyanna turned to see Ser Arthur Dayne standing on the same spot, where he was guarding the royal family since the feast began.

Lyanna could see the knight's eyes had gone wide and she noticed the tension radiating off him even through his white armor.

"Yes, you Ser Arthur! Come forward!" The Mad King ordered. Then, turning his wild, feverish eyes towards the guests he said in a raised voice, "Listen well my loyal subjects! Because tonight will be the night where I will consent one of my Kingsguards to have the First Night!"

There was a chorus of loud and horrified gasps that rippled across the hundreds of guests that sat on the trestle tables.

Lyanna's face became drained off color. She hardly even heard it when her husband began to voice out his objections.

"Father! Please!"

The Mad King cackled again before saying with great delight,"No, Rhaegar! You will not be bedding your beloved wife tonight!"

Somewhere amongst the guest, she could hear another person shouting in protest. It sounded like her brother Brandon, but Lyanna didn't turn around and confirm it, because her eyes were transfixed on the dark-haired knight in his Kingsguard's armor.

The Sword of the Morning was staring at her with a look of shock and dread in his purple eyes, which she knew reflected on her grey orbs.

"You will not have the first night, my son!" King Aerys declared, laughing madly. "Because I will order your friend, the Sword of the Morning, to take your wife's maiden head instead!" _  
_

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 _ **TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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 _ **Author's Note:**_ I'm not sorry for writing this because I'm a total perv. This story will be full of smut.


	2. Bedding Ceremony

With his fists clenched tight, Prince Rhaegar followed after the four Kingsguards who were marching and escorting his friend, the Sword of the Morning, up the royal quarters – Rhaegar's quarters - where his wife, Lyanna Stark, was waiting.

Rhaegar noted how Arthur kept on halting and glancing in his direction, with his friend's purple eyes conveying his utter misery and distress at his current predicament. However, Ser Baristan Selmy or Ser Gerold Hightower would always force the knight to keep on moving. The entire proceeding felt more or less like his friend was being sent into his execution. The atmosphere was grim. The smiles that they had shared during the wedding ceremony, and when the feasting began, were all but gone.

All the smiles had died when the King gave his order.

Rhaegar could only follow the procession in silence. Fury making his blood sing. Rhaegar had never thought himself to be a violent person, but by gods, he wanted to hurt someone.

He wanted to hurt his father for ordering this.

Lyanna, his beautiful Lyanna, his beloved wife. Rhaegar had barely got time to talk to her alone since her party arrived in King's Landing, and now she was about to be force in a situation that no new bride would want on herself.

Rhaegar let out a shuddering breath as he looked back to the day he had met her. She had been a wild and fiery thing to behold when Arthur had carried the she-wolf over his shoulder and presented the girl to Rhaegar. He remembered how the girl had struggled in his friend's hold, cursing the Sword of the Morning loudly, and calling Arthur many a foul name that would make any lady within earshot to blush. Lyanna Stark, however, had no reservation to call the famed knight an 'interfering bastard', 'a stupid cunt' and the 'king's fool' or some such.

He had been amused and intrigued at the sight of her. All wild dark brown hair, murderous grey eyes and wearing bits of mismatched armor. Arthur had dropped the girl in front of Rhaegar, where his friend had then informed him that that girl was the mystery knight that the King had ordered to search for.

The Knight of the Laughing Tree.

Arthur had been wise to bring the girl to him instead of the King. Rhaegar knew that his father had no qualms in enacting the King's justice, even despite the girl's obvious high birth.

Rhaegar had already thought of Lyanna Stark as beautiful then even with the armor. But the things that ultimately made him fall in love with the wild Northern girl was her reason behind challenging those squires. He had been captivated by her fierce sense of justice, her unwavering views in regards to honor and loyalty, and her courage to do what was right to protect the weak and helpless.

He admired her and then loved her for what she was willing to fight for. Lyanna Stark was more than a Lady of Winterfell. She was someone worthy to be a Queen - _his Queen_ , and so Rhaegar had not hesitated in crowning her as his _Queen of Love and Beauty_ during the Tourney at Harenhall because he had every intention to make the Northern girl his Queen one day.

A sense of melancholy filled him as Rhaegar thought of that day. It was no more than a distant memory now. A pleasant one, yes, but it was slowly being eclipsed by the prospect of what was about to occur that night.

Rhaegar remembered how his friend, Arthur, had often jested and constantly reminded him that he had been responsible for dropping Lyanna Stark at Rhaegar's feet.

 _"I half expected you to throw a feast in my honor after giving you a bride, my prince."_ Arthur had japed to him. _"Though don't expect me to carry your bride back where she belongs if the she-wolf turns her claws on you."_

 _"That is very unfortunate, Arthur_." Rhaegar had replied, " _Because I was already considering of using you as a shield in case something like that happens_."

Arthur had laughed at him then, but his friend was no longer laughing now as the Sword of the Morning was forced to climb up the stairs and towards his fate. And faster than Rhaegar would have like, they were closely nearing their destination. They were marching down the hallway leading to Rhaegar's quarters, where his Lady wife had been sent ahead of them.

Soon enough, all of them halted in front of the massive oaken doorway with dragon carvings. A tensed silence descended upon the group as they waited outside the door. The Kingsguards were looking in Rhaegar's direction, waiting for his explanation for being there.

"Ser Gerold, Ser Barristan, Ser Jaime," Rhaegar addressed the Kingguards who had been sent by the King to escort his friend. He met each of their eyes coolly before his gaze landed on Ser Jaime Lannister who had been tasked to be the King's witness and ensure that Arthur did his duty.

If Ser Jaime hadn't been assign to serve as witness, Rhaegar could have ordered Arthur to pretend that his friend had successfully bedded Lyanna Stark; a drop of blood on the bed from a cut – Arthur's, most like - would have suffice, and no one would ever know that the Sword of the Morning had lied to the King.

However, now it seemed that was not going to happen when Ser Jaime Lannister was present. Rhaegar did not know where Ser Jaime's loyalty lay - to him or to the King- but with the knight's father serving as the Hand of the King, Rhaegar doubted he could trust Ser Jaime to lie for him.

Rhaegar clenched his jaw. This was humiliating enough for him, his wife and Arthur as it is, but for the King to order another Kingsguard to witness the bedding of his wife by another man, was just simply sickening. His father may be mad, but this? This has gone too far. Rhaegar suspected that this must be his father's revenge for Rhaegar's attempt to have him remove from the Iron Throne. The informal Great Council at the Tourney at Harenhall may not have happened, but the King must have heard from the Spider pertaining to it.

"I know the King has ordered all of you to bring Ser Arthur here." Rhaegar said to them in a voice as cold and sharp as steel, in contrary to the tempest roiling inside him. "But before you go inside and strip Arthur off his white cloak and armor, may I speak to the Sword of the Morning for a moment?"

The three Kingguards glanced at each other before nodding their heads in ascent. Their faces might as well be made of stone, masking their thoughts very well when Rhaegar jerked his head for Arthur to follow him.

As he walked, Arthur fell in a step beside him. They didn't speak until they have walked further down the hall, far from the ears of the other Kingsguards. Once they were far enough, Rhaegar halted and turned to his friend.

He met Arthur's lilac eyes with his own violet orbs.

"Give me the order, my prince." Arthur whispered at once. "Give me the order to take you and Lady Lyanna away from here, and I will."

Rhaegar knew his friend would say that. He also knew that it would be a foolish thing to do if Rhaegar give the order. For certain, the King would have the three of them killed if they attempt to escape from the Red Keep.

"You know as much as I do that we can't escape from here, my friend, not without careful planning and help from others." He told him, giving him a sad smile while he placed a hand over Arthur's shoulder. "You may be the Sword of the Morning, Arthur, but you can't possibly fight your way past your Kingsguard brothers, at the same time, help me and my wife escape. The three of us will be executed before we can even set foot outside Maegor's holdfast."

"But my prince…I swore a vow." Arthur said, sounding distraught. His friend's purple eyes were full of turbulent emotions that Rhaegar had rarely seen in him. He could see Arthur's anguish; his friend's mounting dread for the task set before him; his sheer, utter helplessness for the lack of choices he had; his seething rage for the Mad King who had forced him into this situation, but most of all, Arthur's blind loyalty towards Rhaegar.

He could all see it in his friend's eyes and he realized that he could never despise his friend for what Arthur was about to do tonight.

"I swore a holy vow." Arthur repeated. "I can't do this, Rhaegar. I can't..."

"Arthur, you heard my father," Rhaegar said, gripping his friend by the shoulder and met Arthur's troubled gaze. "If you don't do this, he will have my wife sent to the dungeons, or worst, have her burnt alive. Do you understand?"

Arthur stared at him helplessly, and after a time, he murmured. "I understand…but there must be another way for us to get out of this…"

"And what do you suggest we do, Arthur?" Rhaegar asked.

"We can send word to your wife's family - House Stark and their allies, as well as ours, and tell them…" Rhaegar watched as Arthur ran a hand through his hair in distress. "Tell them…"

"Tell them what, Arthur?" Rhaegar said, his voice barely above whisper. He understood where Arthur was going with this, but it surprised him that his friend was the one considering that they start a rebellion.

Arthur didn't answer and Rhaegar assumed that his friend must have change his mind. A rebellion could mean war and bloodshed, where many would die - innocent or otherwise - and no matter which sides they choose. There was also a great possibility that Rhaegar would lose, which he knew Arthur would never risk.

"Is there a chance we can gather all the Great Lords of the realm for another informal Great Council tonight?" came his friend's next question and Rhaegar could see the desperation in his eyes.

In response, Rhaegar simply shook his head and said mournfully, "As much as I want to, my friend, but I fear we don't have enough time."

The Tourney at Harrenhall had taken them more than a moons turn to plan. To gather the Lords of the realm for a Great Council tonight would be quite impossible.

"I can make time…" Arthur began in earnest, "I can delay from – from following the King's orders. Mayhap a few hours at best while you –"

"Arthur, enough," Rhaegar interceded. His friend should realize by now that any attempts at delaying the inevitable was futile. Rhaegar had already accepted what was about to happen that evening. It's time that his friend does as well. Their lives were at risk here, but most of all, the life of his wife, Lyanna Stark.

"Your brothers of the Kingsguards are waiting, my wife is waiting. We don't have sufficient time to do anything else, but for you to go inside and follow my father's orders, and even if you can delay a few hours, do you think I will be able to send word to the Lords without my father knowing about it? Varys has his little birds everywhere. My father will know as soon as I send a missive to any of them, and he won't be as forgiving to me, or you, or to my Lady wife, if he finds out. He will burn all of us alive…So I ask you, my friend, set aside your honor for once and soil your cloak…That is an order."

After delivering those words, Arthur appeared to be in pain as if Rhaegar had physically ran a sword through his heart.

"I trust you, Arthur." Rhaegar told him, gripping his shoulders. "You are like a brother to me…and I know I can rely on you to do what is best and take care of my wife."

His words seemed to have the opposite effect on Arthur because the man now looked to be in absolute agony.

"I'm sorry, Rhaegar." Arthur whispered, a shadow of grief passing across his features. "I'm so sorry…If there is another way for me to go against the King's orders without him knowing about it, I will do it…I will do it for you and your wife."

"Arthur, I know, and you have nothing to apologize." He said to him in a voice full of sorrow, "I don't hold you accountable for what you are about to do, but the fault lies on my father who has ordered you to do this. You have no control over the situation, except…just promise me one thing …"

Arthur still appeared troubled, but he asked all the same. "What is it, my prince?"

"Promise me that you will do everything you can to _prepare_ my wife." Rhaegar said in a serious tone. "Promise me that you will prepare her _thoroughly_ before you do what you need to do."

There was a moment of silence when Arthur Dayne took a far longer moment to comprehend what Rhaegar was saying.

"Do you mean…you want me to – to…?" words failed Ser Arthur Dayne. There was a blush that tainted his friend's cheeks at Rhaegar's implication.

Rhaegar could hardly even believe that he was the one suggesting this to Arthur.

"I think you know what I mean, Arthur." He said. "This will be my wife's first time and I don't want her to feel uncomfortable or afraid at the thought of coupling with a man."

"I mean no offense, my prince, but Gods…I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you. About your wife, no less." Arthur managed to choke out, covering his face in discomfort.

Afterward, the knight fell silent and began avoiding looking at Rhaegar's face.

"Arthur, we have little time as it is." Rhaegar said with a note of impatience. Arthur was being rather difficult and he knew that the other Kingsguards would soon be upon them if they linger in the hallways for long. "Please promise me that you will do what I said."

Arthur remained silent, looking quite disturbed at Rhaegar's suggestion.

"Arthur," Rhaegar said, waiting.

"Gods…I'm going to Seven Hells for this," finally came Arthur's groan of misery while dragging a hand through his hair, making it appear more disheveled.

"I take that you are agreeing to my request." Rhaegar remarked tonelessly while trying his best to quell the sudden surge of jealousy and animosity just the thought of him with his wife, of Arthur pleasuring Lyanna in every possible way before bedding her.

 _But this is Arthur, I can trust him to do his duty and do what is best for all of us._ Rhaegar thought. _Arthur will never do something to displease me_.

"As I have sworn before to obey, protect and do my duty as a Knight of the Kingsguards, yes, I promise I will do it my prince…albeit I hadn't expected to be doing this as a part of being a Kingsguard at all." Arthur replied at last, completely drained. All the fight he had before had gone out of him as Arthur finally accepted his fate.

There was a brief pause as Rhaegar regarded his friend's despondent countenance, "I understand that you haven't done this in a while, Arthur. Perhaps more than seven years, if I recall correctly, do you need my advice about the things that you ought to–"

"No," Arthur interrupted, staring at the ceiling and looking very uncomfortable. "I know what to do, my prince. You needn't worry about it."

Rhaegar found it very hard to be relatively angry at his friend, not when Arthur appeared like he was ready to bolt away from there at any given moment, which was disconcerting to see, given that he knew the Sword of the Morning to be the most fearless knight of the Kingsguards.

"Arthur…" He began as another thought came to him. "Don't think of tonight as simply doing your duty. Well…mayhap you are considering it as your duty, but still…I want you to do one more thing for me, my friend…"

"What else do you need me to do?"

"I want you to love my wife as if she is yours..." Rhaegar stated, meeting his friend's gaze.

"But she's not mine, she's yours," Arthur replied in shock, more unsettled than before. "And I swore not to take a wife, my prince."

"Yes, I know…I am not incline to forget what your vows entail, my friend. I am only asking you this Arthur because I want what is best for Lyanna - for _my wife_. I want her to feel love, hence I want you to _make_ _love_ to her, do not let her feel that you are doing it out of duty. So I ask that you love her as if she is your wife…but only for tonight, Arthur. Love her for tonight, and give her only the best experience."

At length, the Sword of the Morning could only stare at him.

"Are you certain of this, Rhaegar?" Arthur murmured.

"I am certain," was Rhaegar's solemn response. "At least, I'm glad that my father chose you instead of some stranger to have my wife's First Night, because I trust you more than anyone in this place, or in all the Seven Kingdoms for that matter…If this was my father's plan to ruin our friendship, then he could never have been more wrong..."

"Pardon me, my prince, Ser Arthur…" a familiar voice interjected before any of them could say more.

Rhaegar pivoted around to see Ser Gerold Hightower standing not a distance away.

"I believe it's time for Ser Arthur Dayne to do what the King has ordered him to do." The White Bull notified them grimly.

From the corners of his eyes, he could see Arthur became tensed at the White Bull's words.

It seemed the moment has finally arrived. There was no escape for either of them.

"Yes, of course…" Rhaegar replied through gritted teeth before addressing his next words to the Sword of the Morning. "Arthur, Ser Gerold is right, it's time for you to go inside…I will see you on the morrow, my friend, and I hope you remember what you promise me..."

Rhaegar was suddenly struck by an irrational need to barge into his quarters and take his wife away from there. Clenching his fists, he breathed through his nose and resisted the urge. Finally, he decided that he better leave before he did something foolish. He began taking a step forward, but his friend stopped him before he could take another one.

"Wait, my prince." Arthur said.

He turned, meeting his friend's gaze and instantly saw the uncertainty there.

"I know this is a difficult for you, as it is for me," Arthur murmured, "But I hope you won't despise me after this."

Rhaegar noticed that Arthur was worried at the possibility.

"I can't promise you that, my friend," came Rhaegar's answer, giving him a sad smile. "Certainly, I will feel some kind of animosity towards you come morn, but I shall not hate you forever…not unless you give me a reason to do so..."

"Then, I shan't give you any more reason to hate me," was Arthur's only answer.

"Good…" Rhaegar said, turning around and began walking away, albeit not without imparting his last words.

"Please take good care of my wife, Arthur…"

Not soon after, he heard his friend's response.

"I will, my prince."

Rhaegar knew that he had no reason to doubt Arthur's words. His wife, Lyanna Stark, would be safe in his friend's hands.

.

Lyanna Stark lay beneath the covers naked and trembling. Although she did not cry, but she could feel the lump on her throat that told her that she was nearly close to it. The serving maids who have help removed her clothes had already left. Lyanna could still remember seeing their pitying glances when they had helped her for the night. At least, Lyanna didn't have to suffer the bedding ceremony where she would be force to endure the questing hands of some drunken guests as they removed her clothes. It had been the King who had ordered Lyanna to be sent ahead to the bed chamber when the pandemonium had broken in the Great Hall.

Lyanna recalled how her brother Brandon had shouted his dissent, yelling threats and obscenities at the King that he had to be dragged away from the Great Hall, mayhap under the orders of her father, before the Mad King could get it into his head to have Brandon executed for his behavior.

Thankfully, the King had been completely distracted by Prince Rhaegar, who at that moment, had tried to reason with his father. And what good it did him to try to reason to a mad man. In truth, it only made King Aerys more determine to see his son suffer for whatever slight Prince Rhaegar may have cause.

The noise in the Great Hall had been deafening like the Mad King had lit a cache of wildfire and it had exploded in the hall. Instead, the King had simply given his order and the people had erupted into chaos.

More than that, it hadn't only been Brandon who had vocalize his anger. Lyanna could still remember her former betrothed, Robert Baratheon - who had been obligated to come to King's Landing for the wedding - roaring his fury after hearing the King's orders.

 _"I HAVE LOST HER TO YOUR SON, THE DRAGON PRINCE, AND NOW YOU ARE GIVING MY BELOVED LYANNA TO SOME KNIGHT OF THE KINGSGUARD TO BE BEDDED?!"_ Those had been Robert's exact words as Lyanna recalled.

Robert had been obviously drunk at that time and it took Robert's brothers, Stannis and Renly and some of the Baratheon's bannermen, to restrained the Stormlord from storming up the high table and smashing a fist into the King's face, or murdering him in a fit of rage.

Momentarily, Lyanna had hoped to see Robert doing just that, but she had been swept away by the serving maids under the King's order before she could see what had happened next.

Lying there on the bed and feeling like there was an eel wriggling unpleasantly in her belly, Lyanna chose not to let the situation get the better off her. Like one of the serving maid had told her, in an apparent attempt to soothe Lyanna, the maid had said: _"Ser Arthur Dayne is a good man, milady. He may not be your husband, the Dragon Prince, but he is the Sword of the Morning, and the Prince's most loyal friend. He will do good by you."_

 _Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning._ Lyanna thought, thinking about him feel strange.

She had never thought much about him after the Tourney at Harenhall, and if she did, Lyanna could only feel vexation towards the knight for the one responsible in bringing her to the Prince. Although, before that, Lyanna grudgingly admitted that she had been in awe of the knight when she saw him riding in the Tourney. Like Ned and Benjen, she had admired the white knight after hearing so many tales about him, and she had even gotten the silly notion of one day becoming his squire, if her father had allowed it.

Nonetheless, those silly notions had ceased to exist when it had been Ser Arthur Dayne who had discovered her disguise as the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

After Lyanna had defeated those squires, she had then ridden far away from the stands and had went to the place where her brother and Howland had been waiting for her. It was near the Wailing Tower in Harenhall. Lyanna had not realize that someone had managed to track her there, until she saw Ser Arthur Dayne swooping into the place with his white cloak fluttering in the wind.

Benjen and Howland had been helping her remove bits of her armor when the Kingsguard had appeared. Lyanna had known that his sudden appearance could not mean well for her and those of her companions. Hence, she had instantly barked an order for Benjen and Howland to scatter and run.

Lyanna had been grateful when the two had done so without hesitation, dropping parts of her armor on the ground while Lyanna had thrown some of it at the Sword of the Morning in the hopes of hitting him in the head and knocking him unconscious. Her attempts failed as the knight had merely avoided everything she had thrown at him. Thereafter, Lyanna had bolted out of there as well with Ser Arthur Dayne following closely behind.

The knight had ordered her to _'halt under the orders of the King!'_ but Lyanna hadn't. Instead she run as fast as she could while the Sword of the Morning had pursued her whereever she went.

Lyanna remembered that she still had her helm at that point, which had help prevent Ser Arthur Dayne from identifying her at once, and with Benjen and Howland having removed her greaves, poleyns, cuises, tasets and faulds, it had been easy for Lyanna to run faster without the weight of the armor bearing down on her legs, as compared to the Sword of the Morning, who had worn his full suit of Kingsguard armor.

She had been positive that she would have lost the knight somewhere beneath the lower vaults in the Wailing Tower, but the Sword of the Morning was a tall man, and Lyanna's legs were no match to the knight's long legs.

Hoping to dislodge the man, Lyanna had rounded the corner in one of the cavernous vaults. However, in the last moment, Ser Arthur Dayne had burst into speed and closed the distance between. Then, before Lyanna could even blink, the Sword of the Morning had tackled Lyanna to the ground in a brilliant move that took her breath away, literally.

Both of them had fallen with a resounding crash. Their limbs tangled together and their armors scraping against each other, and Lyanna could never forget how her bones and teeth had rattled at the jarring impact when her body hit the ground. She had been stunned and dazed afterward, and could feel some parts of her body throbbing in pain, where she knew bruises had formed. More than that, it didn't help at all to feel another weight pinning her heavily to the ground.

When Lyanna had finally gathered her scattered wits about her, she had instantly began struggling beneath the knight, and she remembered how Ser Arthur Dayne had ordered to, _"Stop fighting, Ser! In the name of the King, I -"_

 _"Fuck your King_!" had been Lyanna's angry answer through her visor, and she recalled the flicker of surprise in the man's face the instant he heard her voice.

Not a moment after, the Sword of the Morning had tagged off her helm and her wild brown hair came spilling down, and soon enough, her face was finally revealed to him.

The sight of her had stunned the knight.

" _You are a woman_ ," had been Ser Arthur's shock statement while Lyanna had simply growled in response, _"Yes, and you, Ser, are a barbarian!"_

The apology that came spilling from Ser Arthur Dayne had been rather effusive and full of regret, but it didn't stop him from taking Lyanna to the Prince. No, the knight had been adamant about informing the Prince of his discovery. From what Ser Arthur Dayne had explained to her, it would not look like he had gone against the King's orders if he had, at least, told someone from the royal family about her. It was important for the Sword of the Morning to do so.

Lyanna had understood his reasons. Nonetheless, it hadn't mean that she would simply comply to his request. At first, Lyanna had pretended to go with the White Knight, but when she had been given the opportunity, she had tried to run away from him again. The Sword of the Morning was not having none of it, and so he had all but carried Lyanna over his shoulder, like she weighed no more than a bag of flour, and then delivered her to Prince Rhaegar for his wise deliberation.

Looking back at what happened, Lyanna should be grateful that it had been Ser Arthur Dayne who had discovered her, and not any other knights of the Kingsguards, or anyone who had the inclination to please the King and get a bag full of golden dragons. If it hadn't been him, it would be the end of her.

After the incident, Lyanna had ranted everything to her brother Benjen, and then told him about her change of opinion in regards to the Sword of the Morning.

" _I no longer admire the man_!" Lyanna had declared to him, aggravated. " _He shouldn't have done that!"_

 _"He's simply following the King's orders, Lyanna_ ," had been Benjen's defense. _"You can't blame him for doing his duty as the knight of the Kingsguards_."

Her brother spoke true but that hadn't abated Lyanna's outrage as she recalled how the Sword of the Morning had tackled her to the ground or the moment when he had carried her over his shoulder. In those moments, Lyanna had never felt more aware of herself as the weaker of the sex. If she had been born a man, Lyanna was certain that she would never allowed something like that to happen to her.

More than that, Lyanna had been rather in a foul mood following her encounter with the Sword of the Morning and the Prince. And she remembered how her brother Benjen had tried to dispel her dark predisposition at that time by jesting to her and comparing Lyanna's experience to that of the marriage customs of the wildlings Beyond-the-Wall.

 _"You know, Lyanna, I remember Old Nan used to say that wildling men are quite forceful when it comes to stealing a wife from their home or clan, and the women, in turn, are expected to put up a fight every step of the way."_

" _What are you implying, Benjen_?" had been Lyanna's sharp question.

 _"Mayhap you should now consider yourself married to the Sword of the Morning, Lya_." Benjen had jested and her brother had received a smack on the head for his failed effort to cheer her up.

Thinking about it now made Lyanna feel all kinds of strange. The Sword of the Morning may have carried her away, but she ended up married to the Crown Prince instead, and now…and now the person who would take her maidenhead was not even going to be her husband, but the man who had set all these things into motion.

Ser Arthur Dayne.

Should she blame the Sword of the Morning for all of this? Lyanna wondered. He had been the one to push her in the line of sight of the Dragon Prince, and inevitably, to receive the brunt of the Mad King's spite.

However, Lyanna had no time to contemplate more on the matter, when she heard the sound of the door being opened.

Suddenly, she was beset by nerves. Her heart sped up as she listened to the sounds of footsteps marching into the bed chamber. The people sounded like they were all wearing mail and armor, Lyanna gathered just from listening to the metallic clinks and scrapes of iron and steel.

With the drapes of the bed pulled shut, she could not see the people who had entered the room but she heard their voices.

"We are gravely sorry that the King has ordered you to do this, brother." Someone said in a voice so grim that it felt like death had walked right through the door. "Nonetheless, despite your orders for tonight…Ser Arthur, know this, you will always belong to the Kingsguards. Do not think of yourself as any less."

"We are proud to call you our brother, Ser Arthur." Another voice said next. "You will always be worthy in our eyes as a knight of the Kingsguard. Ser Oswell and Prince Lewlyn may not be here to see your ordeal, but I am certain they hold the same view as those who are present here. You belong to our brotherhood until the day you breathe your last, as we all swore when we join the order."

"Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning." said the third person, "I have been your greatest admirer even before I saw you go after the Kingswood Brotherhood and then fought the Smiling Knight...I was still a green boy in need of a proper wallop by my Master-at-Arms in Casterly Rock, when word of your legend reached the Westerlands. I listened to the tales of this young knight - no more than five and ten, as they say - who called himself the Sword of the Morning and fought with a great sword called Dawn. A true knight of the Kingsguards, as the tales went, and a close friend to the crown prince, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. As I listened to the stories, I dreamed of becoming like you one day, but I know I can never be you… I admire you, as do many others. Even better men than me have known you to be honorable, brave and loyal to a fault, and I realized then that I can never come close to what you stand for without screwing up ...Our King may have ordered you to do things that may go against your vows, Ser Arthur, but like our brothers Ser Gerold and Ser Barristan have said, you will always be considered as our brother of the Kingsguards. You will always be worthy in our eyes despite what will happen tonight."

As Lyanna listened, she knew the last one to have spoken was Ser Jaime Lannister, and the other two must be Ser Gerold Hightower and Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguards.

Biting her lower lip, she wondered what they were all doing there. She had expected for Ser Arthur Dayne to come alone to the bed chamber, so it was distressing to see three of the Kingsguards present there as well.

"I thank you Ser Gerold, Ser Barristan, Ser Jaime, your words give me comfort in this dark time…" came the familiar voice of Ser Arthur Dayne, his tone of voice belying his inner torment. "I hear you brothers and I will not allow tonight to cast a stain upon my name and my honor as a knight. I will remain true to my vows come dawn, but for tonight, I will follow the King's orders."

"You are a great man and true, Ser Arthur. Better than any of us," came the gruff voice, of whom Lyanna assumed to be Ser Gerold Hightower. "Now, you mustn't keep Lady Lyanna waiting for long. It's time that we remove your white cloak and armor."

Lifting the bed covers up to her chest, Lyanna scooted towards the edge of the bed to see what was happening. She slowly pulled the drape to side, only enough for her one eye to catch a glimpse of the Sword of the Morning and the other three Kingsguards.

She watched as the white cloak was the first to be removed by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Gerold Hightower, where the knight then draped the cloak on a chair. Meanwhile, Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime worked on Ser Arthur's pauldron and gorget. Once they have the parts remove, the two knights placed them on top of the nearest furniture.

Afterward, they went back to removing the rest of Ser Arthur's armor, his gardbraces, vambrances, gauntlets, tabard, tassets, faulds, cuisses, polyns, and sabatons.

It was a mockery to the bedding ceremony.

As the custom often dictate, the bridegroom must allow himself to be strip of his clothes by the weddings guests while they bring him to the bedchamber.

In this case, instead of her actual bridegroom, Lyanna was seeing Ser Arthur Dayne - a knight of the Kingsguard - being stripped by his Kingsguard brothers.

The three Kingsguard work in silence. Their hands were purposeful. Their faces stern while Ser Arthur stood there enduring it all, until the Sword of the Morning was only left wearing his mailed shirt and dark breeches.

With his back to her, Lyanna could not see Ser Arthur's reaction to all of this, but she noticed how the man seemed to hold himself still. This must be terribly hard for him and Lyanna understand, to see such great and honorable knight reduced to become the King's fool and be forced to soil his cloak. Lyanna understood his plight clearly, but he wasn't the only one being force in this situation. He wasn't the maiden here. She was, and the thought of him taking her maidenhead brought a sudden rush of nervousness and a hint of fright in Lyanna.

Husband or not, this would be her first time coupling with a man, and Lyanna was beyond worried. If it had been Prince Rhaegar, Lyanna would still feel the same because she had heard stories from some of the women in Winterfell, who told that it would be painful or uncomfortable and blood would be involve. Just simply imagining it was already making Lyanna feel panicky. She could feel cold sweat trickling down her bare back as she trembled in trepidation.

Lyanna wished that those stories were not true, but most of all, she desperately hoped that the Sword of the Morning would not let her experience that. She knew Ser Arthur Dayne to be kind and gentle man, so Lyanna should feel assured that he would treat her the same way in the bed chamber.

So lost was she in her own thoughts that Lyanna did not realize that the Kingsguards were bidding their leave. She was only brought back to the present when she heard the sound of the door closing.

Pulling the drape wider, Lyanna peered outside and could only see Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Arthur Dayne standing there. The other two knights, Ser Barristan and Ser Gerold, had already left.

 _What is Ser Jaime still doing here_? Lyanna thought.

She watched as the golden-haired knight walked towards the table where the knight then took a decanter of Dornish red and a wine goblet. After pouring a copious amount of wine into the goblet, Ser Jaime then extended it to the Sword of the Morning.

"This will be a long night." Ser Jaime stated, giving the other knight a strained smile. "I think we both need a drink, and I believe lots of it. Don't you agree, Ser Arthur?"

"I don't drink, Ser Jaime," came Ser Arthur's brittle answer. "And I would rather keep my head about me tonight while I – I…"

"Bed the Prince's Lady wife?" Ser Jaime offered, glancing in Lyanna's direction.

At once, Lyanna dropped the drape and scuttled further back into the bed, her heart thudding erratically against her chest. She knew Ser Jaime had seen her and sure enough she heard him call out to her.

"Lady Lyanna, I believe it's time that I inform you about my purpose here," the man was saying while she could hear the sounds of footsteps nearing the bed. "You see…the King has ordered me to be the sole witness of the bedding."

Lyanna stiffened at his words. The grip she had on her bed cover only tightened as she continued to listen to the knight.

"Though the King did not specifically order me to watch, so I won't…you both needn't worry about that…but I will still be here, ever present, to listen and ensure that Ser Arthur Dayne follow the King's orders."

The footsteps halted at the side of the bed and Lyanna could see Ser Jaime's silhouette through the drapes as he murmured to her.

"I am sorry, my lady. That is the only thing I can do for you, the Prince, and Ser Arthur. I can't lie about the bedding, even if I want to…For the risk is far too great for me and my family. I can't risk the chance of the King catching on my lie if I try to. For certain Varys has his little birds listening closely to the walls of this very bedchamber, and are ready to report to the King of the little things spoken here. I really want to help, but I fear for my life, and that of my House. I hope you can see my dilemma, my lady."

"I understand, Ser Jaime." Lyanna replied softly. "I completely understand. You don't need to explain yourself to me…for I, too, fear for my life, and of my family. All of us here do so."

"Thank you, my lady, for understanding…" She heard Ser Jaime say.

There was a moment of silence where the knight then said after, "I know first night's wreaks havoc on a maiden's senses. And I know you to be nervous, my lady, don't deny it."

It was true, but Lyanna still bristled at Ser Jaime's bold words.

"So perhaps a goblet of Dornish red would do good in calming your nerves."

It wasn't a question but more of a suggestion to Lyanna and she knew that Ser Jaime was simply looking out to better her situation.

She was about to respond when Ser Arthur Dayne cut in.

"I don't believe the lady needs a drink, Ser Jaime." The Sword of the Morning said sharply, "Prince Rhaegar will not approve."

Lyanna bit back a retort at Ser Arthur's presumption.

Who was he to say that she can't have a drink? And even if the Prince won't approve, but this was her body, and the only one who has a say about what Lyanna should, or not consume, was her, and not her husband, or anyone for that matter.

"I think both of you needed a drink," Ser Jaime suggested suddenly and loudly, before Lyanna could utter rebuke at the Sword of the Morning.

"In fact, I believe the both of you will certainly need it after you hear what the other things the King has ordered."

A spike of fear raced up Lyanna's spine at Ser Jaime's statement. She hugged the bed covers closely to herself as she waited with rising dread for the knight to continue.

"Ser Jaime, what does the King expect me to do now?" came Ser Arthur's low question, which sounded like it was forced through gritted teeth.

"Ser Arthur, other than what the King has ordered you to do," Jaime Lannister started, "He told me that you have another set of orders that you must need meet. Before I left the King's side, King Aerys has imparted to me that I tell you this…The King's new order was for you, Ser Arthur, to bed the Lady thrice."

Lyanna let out a horrified gasp. Her eyes growing wide.

"It will not only be once, but thrice..." Ser Jaime was saying, "You must bed Lady Lyanna thrice before dawn. That was the King's orders."

 _Thrice_? She thought nearly hysterical while somewhere outside the four-poster bed she could hear the Sword of the Morning letting out a curse.

"As I said, Ser Arthur, that this will be a _Long Night_." Ser Jaime remarked in a droll tone. "So…are you both still up for a drink? Because I certainly do..."


End file.
